Fame isn't Everything
by Dramatic-Uke
Summary: Harry is having a hard time dealing with his past as well as the present events. He turns to cutting, can anyone get through to him?Post HBP, with some changes cause I don't like it.Harry's 7th year.Posible HPDM. Rated M for cutting,abuse,and other things
1. The Beating

**Looks around for my muse Ok, there she is now I can write.**

_**Raven: Why am I here?**_

**Dramatic: So you can say the disclaimer, and help me write.**

_**Raven: I'm not your slave. **_

**Dramatic: Technically you are, so just say the disclaimer already.**

**(Raven takes her curved dagger from her belt.)**

_**Raven: You want try saying that again?**_** (Takes a step towards Dramatic)**

**Dramatic: Um, ya I think I'm gonna run now. But just so ya know, I don't own Harry Potter just this plot. (Dramatic runs, Raven following)**

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As soon as Harry heard the creaking of the stairs, he stashed the pen-knife under his pillow, and quickly busied himself with reading The Prophet. The knob in the door turned and in stepped Vernon Dursley. Setting the paper down, Harry turned to look at his Uncle.

"You are not to leave this room while Petunia, Dudley, and I are out."

(Pff, like I care. I'll have some time to myself.) "Whatever" He said turning away.

But suddenly Harry found himself slammed into the wall, Vernon's red face glaring into the teens. "Don't back talk me boy." Harry glared back and just couldn't contain himself. "I'm sorry was whatever to big for you to understand? Should I have said, I don't give a shit?"

Seconds later he was flung at the wardrobe. His back and head smacked the corner, and he collapsed to the floor. His eyes watering as pain shot up his spine and into his head. Vernon glared into Harry's face spitting as he talked.

"I don't have time for you right now, so when we get back you'd better be good and ready for your real beating." And with that he turned and left, clicking the locks into place. Harry didn't move from his spot on the floor until the slamming of car doors and the crunching gravel signaled the Dursley's departure.

Finally sitting up he rubbed the back of his head. (Yep there's definitely a bump there. Oh well, that's nothing compared to what I'm gonna get later.) Harry knew he had asked for it, but he really didn't care anymore. Sighing he picked himself up and flopped onto the bed.

Emerald eyes turned their gaze to the setting sun out his window. He unconsciously slid his hand under his pillow and drew the pen-knife Sirius had given him. He fiddled with it between his fingers before looking down at it and flicking the blade out. He admired how beautifully the sun's disappearing light glinted off it.

Harry ran a finger down the side of the blade. He'd heard about cutting, and wondered if there was any truth to the relief that was promised from it. Harry knew he wasn't suicidal, he was just tired of the horrifying dreams he experienced each night as he slept. Tired of being the boy who lived, tired of being the one to save the world, tired of the beatings from his uncle, and especially tired of being left in the dark by Dumbledore.

Harry was extremely irritated that the old coot would just leave him to go back to the Dursley's, even after all the work they had done through his 6th year finding all the Horcruxes and destroying them, with the exception of Nagini. Ever since then Harry had been on guard almost constantly. He was worried hat Voldemort would be even more insistant that he find Harry, now that he was almost mortal. He still had a few weeks until he turned 17, so therefore the protection on this hell hole was still active.

He sighed again and folded the blade back into its handle. Harry rolled of his bed and placed the knife back in his trunk. Turning to the window he gazed out of it wishing Hedwig were here to keep him company. But she was off at Ron's because Harry honestly didn't think his uncle would deal with "that bloody bird" another summer.

(The neighborhood seems so much more at peace beneath the stars.) Harry really did appreciate the darkness. It was calming and easy to hide within it. But nighttime did have it's faults as well. At night Harry was always tormented with dreams of Sirius blaming him for his death as he fell behind the veil. If it wasn't that it was the graveyard or different versions of each of his friends dying. There were even times when Voldemort would pay a visit to his mind and torment him.

Harry came out of his revere when he heard the Dursley's crunching footsteps up the walkway. He hadn't even heard the car doors. He quickly turned out the light in his bedroom, and flung himself on the bed, pretending to be asleep. He hoped that his uncle had forgotten about the promised beating.

He heard his Aunt and cousin slip into there own rooms. Harry wondered where his Uncle was, until he heard his footsteps on the stairs, and tensed as he heard the knob turn.

Vernon Dursley stomped to his nephew's bed and yanked Harry up by the scruff of his neck, throwing him to the floor. Harry simply sat himself up on his knees and faced the wall. He knew what was coming.

Vaguely he heard Vernon undoing his belt, and sliding it from his pants. "Take your shirt off." His uncle growled. Harry deafly obeyed and slid his shirt off his back.

Above him he heard the belt crack; he flinched and tensed even more waiting for the first hit. Behind him his uncle laughed at his reaction. Eyes shut tight, Harry waited with bated breath for the sting. Minutes passed and he began to wonder if Vernon had left. Listening carefully he tried to see if he could hear anything, but he was greeted with silence.

He began to relax, when unexpectedly he felt the belt come down on his back, slicing into the skin. He let out a surprised gasp. His uncle had purposely been quiet to lure Harry to think he was okay.

The pain slowly started to ebb away, and out of the corner of his eye he saw his uncle rear back to strike again. Harry jammed his eyes shut. Crack! The second lash came and he grit his teeth, fighting back tears. Making noise would only make it worse.

Crack! Three. Crack! Four. The hits just kept coming, Harry soon lost count. And it wasn't long before he felt the blood begin to run down his back. Silent tears now freely streaming down his face. But the belt continued to bite into him, and his body began to tremble, struggling to remain upright.

Just when Harry thought there would be no end, the onslaught ceased. He couldn't hold up anymore and he crumpled to the floor, his breathing ragged and uneven. "Let that be a reminder." Vernon snorted, then he turned and left.

Harry continued to lay where he fell. He knew he had to clean up the blood, otherwise he'd just earn himself another beating. But his entire body ached, and his vision blurred in and out of focus until it finally went black.

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_**Raven: Dramatic is a bit tied up at the moment, so I'm closing this chapter. Hm, it is a bit dark for Harry Potter, but I personally like it. **_

**Dramatic: (distantly) Let Me Go Raven!!!!!**

_**Raven: (thinks for a moment) Um, no I don't think I will yet.**_

**Dramatic: But I need to write the next chapter!!!!! PLEASE!! Come on. Okay, I'm sorry I about what I said. Now untie me already!!!!**

_**Raven: No, I still don't think I will.**_

**Dramatic: Fine if your not gonna let me go then tell them abo…**

_**Raven: Yes, yes. Just an FYI these little things (...) represent a character's thoughts. Till I let lose the writer, Bye.**_


	2. A Day of Chores

Dramatic: Well, Raven finally let me go, so I'm able to update.

_**Raven: I wanted to keep you tied up awhile longer, but I was curious about the story.**_

Dramatic: Ya sure, you just can't live without me.

_**Raven: Technically that's true but you still can't control me.**_

Dramatic: Ya, ya, ya I know. Now we just gotta say the disclaimer and start ch. 2.

_**Raven: **_(To readers) _**Is Harry's Uncle really that sadistic? No. Then she doesn't own Harry Potter just this plot. **_(To Dramatic) _**Now get on with the story already.**_

Dramatic: I won't if your gonna be all annoying about it.

_**Raven: **_(takes out dagger) _**You want a repeat of last chapter?**_

Dramatic: Ok so here's chapter 2 enjoy. (Runs)

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Harry's eyes flickered open. First aware that he was on the floor, and lying in something sticky. (My blood) he realized. Then he felt the dull throbbing across his back.

Groaning, he sat up slowly while pain lanced down his back. Harry glanced out the window. The pale hue of the darkness told him of the approaching dawn. And sure enough, as he turned his head to the alarm clock next to his bed, it read 6 am.

Dried blood on the slashes across his back cracked making him wince as he stood. He took a step towards the door and felt a bit lightheaded. When he got his bearings he quietly opened his door and snatched some rags from the cleaning closet.

Retreating back to his room, Harry began to clean his own blood from the floor. He no longer cared that his Uncle beat him like this. It had become normal, whether it was the belt or Vernon's own fists, it was normal. The Order knew nothing of it. Every few days a letter from an Order member would show up asking how he was and if his relatives were treating him right. His response was always the same. 'I'm fine, no problems.' He never asked what was going on in the wizarding world. Never asked when he was going to leave the Dursley's. He simply went with what was happening.

He didn't know why he refused to tell the Order of his Uncle's beatings. It was what he deserved he supposed. There were and still are so many that have suffered because of him.

Completing his task he went into the bathroom to rinse himself, and get ready for carrying out the day's chores. He grimaced, the water stinging his striped back as it poured down his body. Harry simply stared as the pink bloodstained water went down the drain. (It really is fascinating, blood.) He mused. A snort came from his cousin in the other room waking him from his daze.

He turned the taps off, wrapped a towel around his waist, and silently padded to his room. He threw on some boxers, a pairs of baggy jeans, and carefully slid a shirt on his back. Gathering the bloodied rags and clothes he tossed them into the wash and took to the kitchen to begin making breakfast.

Not to much later his ostrichlike Aunt entered the kitchen giving him a sour look before bustling about to lay out silverware. The steady stomps down the stairs signaled Vernon's coming, and sure enough the great fat man walked into the kitchen disappearing behind the newspaper.

Harry was just tipping sausages onto his Uncle's plate when the son of the great fat man only worse waddled in with his Smeltings stick. Harry glanced at it warily. Dudley never said much any more but he never failed to whack Harry with his Smeltings stick when he could.

Cautiously he made his way towards his cousin. Dudley watched him as he slid sausages onto his plate. Harry turned away from him, when suddenly a hard hit to his back made him double over and drop the pan he was holding. As it clattered to the floor throbbing pain seared through his back.

"BOY!!!!" Vernon yelled. The pain began to ebb away, and he slowly began to relax and stand. "Sorry Uncle Vernon." He said emotionless. Harry expected there to be more yelling but surprisingly there wasn't. He bent over and retrieved the fallen pan. He set it in the sink, before returning to cooking the rest of the food.

The rest of breakfast went off without a hitch. Vernon went to work, Dudley went to a friend's house, Aunt Petunia told him the chores, and then she began her own nitpicky cleaning.

Harry sighed as he went out the back door. He had to clean out the shed and paint the fence. Harry was honestly getting a bit tired of painting that god dam fence. A new coat of paint just **had** to be put on it every single time a **speck** of dirt got on it. (Well, better get started I guess.)

The fence took the entire morning, and the sweat rolling down his back stinging the raw torn flesh hadn't helped in the slightest. For lunch his Aunt had set out a few pieces of cheese and some bread.

After the pitiful "lunch" Harry trekked back into the backyard to the run down shed in the corner. Stepping into the shade of the run down shed he began to clear things out of it. (I don't see why I have to clean out this old thing. I mean really, no one except me comes in here.) There was a ton of things in the shed, the lawnmower, a bunch of gardening supplies, an old work shop desk, Dudley's bike that had about 3 inches of dust on it, and a few other miscellaneous items. After removing most of the larger things and cleaning the dust and cobwebs covering them, Harry began to clean out the drawers of the old work desk.

Most of the drawers had old, screws, nails, bits of scrap wood, amongst other things. Basically just a bunch of junk that he just chucked. When he opened the last drawer it slid open easily as if it had been used for years, unlike the other ones that Harry had to basically use a pry bar to open them. Inside it he found about 15 or 20 packs of cigarettes, along with a few lighters.

(Well now I know where Dudley keeps his stash.) Out of curiosity he picked up one of the loose cigarettes, stuck it between his lips and lit it with one of the lighters. Setting the lighter down he inhaled. He felt the smoke get down into his lungs blocking oxygen passage. Coughing and hacking he took it out of his mouth. After a few moments he got his breath back, and did what any normal person would have done. He took another drag, this time feeling the toxins go in much smoother.

Exhaling he felt himself become a bit calmer than just a few moments earlier. (It's not so bad, really. I think I'll take some, Dudley won't notice, he can't even count.) Finishing the first cigarette, Harry took about 8 or 9 packs, along with a few lighters, and stuffed them into the many pockets that were on his pants. Then busied himself with cleaning the rest of the shed. After his task was finished he threw the large trash bags he'd filled with junk into the trash cans on the side of the house then quietly made his way up to his room. When he had carefully closed his door he wrenched up the floorboard under his bed and hid the cigarettes and lighters there.

He replaced the floor board then flopped onto his bed, immediately regretting it as he felt the lashes on his back stretch. Soon the pain dulled to a throb as he drifted off into a soon tormented slumber.

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Dramatic: GASP! I made Harry into a smoker. But I felt like it. SQUEE! I'm so glad I could update.

_**Raven: What's wrong with being a smoker? **_

Dramatic: Nothing in my opinion, but there are some people who won't like it. But I don't care, I LOVE FLAMES! They make me laugh. So everyone review or flame whatever your preference. If you do I may be inspired to update sooner.

_**Raven: Stop being all cheery it's so troublesome.**_

Dramatic: Sorry Raven, I'll just be all morbid and depressing all day like you.

_**Raven: I think that would be a wonderful change for you. So yes please do that.**_

Dramatic: Nah, I don't want to. Anyhoo, PLZ review everyone.


	3. Nightmares

_**Raven: You take forever to update Dramatic. It's really starting to annoy your readers.**_

**Dramatic: Annoy my readers? Or annoy you? And technically it's not my fault. You're my muse so if you don't show up then I don't write.**

_**Raven: Yes, but I'm a part of you, therefore it's your fault.**_

**Dramatic: Ya know what; ya know what… your face!!**

_**Raven: **_(fingers dagger) _**What about my face?**_

**Dramatic: Uh… It's very pretty… and… I wish it would say the disclaimer.**

_**Raven: Right. **_(To readers) _**Is Harry really a smoker? No, therefore she does not own Harry Potter just this plot. Now get on with it.**_

**Dramatic: Alright just a sec. Hey you readers. Just another little FYI:**_ Italics _**equals dream, and BOLD equals writing or text of some kind. Ok then? Off we go.**

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**Ch. 3 Nightmares**

'_Harry saw Sirius duck Bellatrix's jet of red light: He was laughing at her. "Come on, you can do better than that!" he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room. The second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest.' _

_His eyes widened in shock, and then they turned towards Harry who stood stock still on the steps staring. Sirius began to fall back into the veil. "It's all your fault Harry that I'm dead. How could you do this to me? You're no godson to me."_

"_No Sirius no!! I didn't mean to, I'm sorry!" Harry screamed, trying to run forward and grab his godfather. But he couldn't move his legs, and he watched Sirius fall through the veil. "NOOOO!! SIRIUS COME BACK!! PLEASE!!!" Sobbing he pleaded for his godfather to return. But he did not reappear. _

_The room faded then lightened again. Harry looked to the dais, hoping Sirius was there. But no, now there was Ron falling backward to the veil. _

"_How could you let me die Harry? I thought I was your best friend." And he sank behind the veil._

"_RON!!! RON!!!" Harry's eyes were wild with fear as tears leaked from them. _

_He strained against the invisible force keeping him rooted to the ground as he watched every friend he'd ever known being claimed by the veil. Hermione, All the Weasley's, Lupin, Neville, Luna, Tonks, Cedric, Kingsley, Hagrid. Each one in turn blaming him for their deaths. He sank to the ground as more and more loved ones were taken. _

_The death seemed to go on forever until finally, his parents stood before the dais. He looked up at them with fearful bloodshot eyes. They began to fall backwards as if in perfect sync._

"_It's all your fault Harry. If we had never had you everyone would still be alive." And they slipped behind the veil."_

"NOOOOO!!!!!" Harry woke with a start, sitting up eyes wild. Realizing what he just saw, tears streamed down his face. Everyone he'd ever known had fallen through the veil. He brought his legs up to chest and wrapping his arms around them he silently sobbed. (It's is all my fault. My parents, Cedric, S-Sirius. They all died because of me.)

He tried to block the dream from his mind, but their faces just kept coming up as they fell. And their voices blaming him for them dieing, it was just too much pain to bear. Harry flung the sweat soaked sheets off of himself, and leapt from his bed. He made his way quickly to his trunk, threw it open and pulled out the pen-knife.

He flicked the blade out, his only thought of escaping the pain, and brought it down onto his wrist. He winced as it cut across his skin, but even with the slight sting of it, Harry couldn't help but notice the relief of forgetting the dream, even if only for a few seconds as the pain began to recede.

He looked down at his wrist and watched the blood begin to trickle out.

It helped but he needed more than that. He pressed the blade to his wrist again and slowly dragged it across. Closing his eyes to revel in the sting, he breathed a sigh of relief. He looked down at his wrist again and watched his blood begin to seep from the two cuts. (More. It's not enough.) And he made 4 more bloody lines. After that he was satisfied, and leaned his head against his bed, sighing, relishing the sting.

He watched the blood stream from his cuts like blood red ribbons, for a few minutes. Then brought his wrist up to his mouth and suckled the warm metallic liquid. (Like sucking poison from a snake bite) He mused. Smiling against his skin he sucked a little harder to feel a bit more pain.

After a minute he let the skin go from his mouth, grabbed an old t-shirt and with one last lick at the cuts he wrapped his wrist up in it. After a long sigh he leaned up against the side of his bed and stared out the window holding his arm protectively over his stomach, and watched the sun begin to steadily come up.

Around six he stood from his spot, and took a shower. Again he carefully made his way back to his room, and dressed, being sure to wear a long sleeved shirt to cover his wrist. (The Dursley's probably wouldn't care anyways, but still)

As he passed the mirror in the hallway he stopped and looked himself up and down. (Ya know I really need a new look. This whole gargantuan clothes thing is just getting annoying. Next chance I get, I'm gonna buy some new clothes.)

He began to make his way down the steps when he realized he didn't hear his cousin's or his uncle's normal morning deafening snores. (Shit, I hope they aren't awake already.)

He rushed into the kitchen, prepared to be punished for not being up early enough to make breakfast. But when he reached the kitchen there was only a note on the table.

**We've gone out for the day to get Dudley his uniform for Smeltings. We'll be back round 4. DON'T TOUCH ANY OF OUR STUFF OR YOU'LL REGRET IT.**

**Vernon**

(Oh yeah, Dudley has to get his uniform tailored cause his fat ass won't fit in the normal uniforms now. So I get the house to my self. Not to bad really. Here's my chance to get a new look.)

Throwing the note in the trash Harry made to grab the frying pan from the shelf but stopped when he realized he really wasn't all that hungry. Shrugging off the sudden change of appetite, he made his way into the Dursley's living room. Reaching up to the mantelpiece, Harry grabbed the urn that supposedly held his Uncle's dead mother, but really it was just Vernon's drinking money.

He pulled the lid off it and pulled out about 1,000 pounds. **A/N: I really don't know how much that is I'm just taking a wild guess. If it's like a massive amount of money all I can say is "Opps" Let's just leave it at that.**

Carefully he replaced the lid and sat the urn back in its original place on the mantel. Harry shoved the money into his back pocket, grabbed the spare key from under the welcome mat and headed into town. Looking around at all the shops, he wondered where he should start his new look first. (Let's see, now where can I do the most damage with this money?)

Finally with a grin, he began to make his way to a very dark clothing store.

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_**Raven: **_(licks lips) _**Mmm, blood... Dramatic?**_

**Dramatic: Yeah?**

_**Raven: Why is it that Harry gets blood and I don't?**_

**Dramatic: You want more? Already? I like just gave you some last week.**

_**Raven: Well let's just say it's been a very stressful week and it's drained me, so therefore I need more.**_

**Dramatic: Fine, I'll get you some tonight; just go easy on it though.**

_**Raven: Don't I always?**_

**Dramatic: For the most part…unless you're really mad.**

_**Raven: **_**(Grins)**_** Well I can't deny that… … Aren't you supposed to be talking to the readers about something or another?**_

**Dramatic: Oh yeah! He he, Harry's getting some changes to his look. Any suggestions for what he should get done? Like piercings, Tat's or this that and the other. If you do have some idea's I'm planning on writing the next chap. in about a week so send them in quick. :) **

_**Raven: Any thing else?**_

**Dramatic: Umm… Oh yeah. I t has been brought to my attention that my chaps. can be too small sometimes, so I'm going to begin working on that. Alright that's it. EVERYONE REVIEW!!!! OR FLAME IF YOU FEEL YOU MUST!!**


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